War Buddies
by TurtleGirl
Summary: To an outsider, it may seem that the relationship between Casimiro and Finas is a bit one-sided. Finas knows better.


**War Buddies**

**A/N: **My first real Hanna fic! Just a little something I've had in my head for a while. All characters belong to Tessa Stone. Enjoy!

When Finas wakes, it comes as a bit of a shock. Really it's not so much the waking that surprises him, but the fact that he really wishes he hadn't. He feels awful, between a throbbing head and a pain in his chest that seems to be aggravated whenever he tries to move. It's not the flu and he's not hung-over. There must be a logical explanation.

Perhaps there is also a logical reason for Finas to be tucked in on the living room sofa instead of in his own bed. It's an odd place for him to fall asleep, but then Finas really doesn't remember falling asleep in the first place. Thoroughly confused, the Englishman closes his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

He remembers going hunting with Casimiro and…yes, now it makes sense. Their journey home was interrupted.

_They know they are being followed. Not long after they have finished supper and disposed of the evidence, they can smell him: a blend of soap and sulfur, topped off with a sickening amount of garlic. Ducking into an alley, it takes them only a brief moment to decide what to do about it. It's time to end this._

"_Hey Abner!" Casimiro taunts. "If you're gonna do something, come on out and do it. I ain't got all night!"_

"_As you wish," is the smooth reply. The hunter materializes at the entrance to the alleyway, his pet perched on one shoulder and his gun cocked and ready. "I have waited a long time for this."_

"_No sh-t," Cas laughs. "We were beginning to think you'd chickened out."_

"_As you can see, I have not," says VanSlyk, tersely. He raises his gun. "Those two women you murdered tonight will be your last." _

Casimiro is seated across from the sofa, his lanky body draped awkwardly over a chair that's probably far too small for him. He looks to be asleep with his head tilted back and arms folded across his narrow chest, but almost as soon as Finas notices him, the younger vampire's eyes open, a lazy grin stretching across his face.

"Hey! It's about time. I was startin' to worry." Cas sits up, looking his companion over with an appraising eye. "You okay?" Finas has to think about that one.

"I'm not … _quite_ dead," he decides. "But when…how did we get back here?"

"It wasn't easy, but hey, it's not like you've never had to drag _my_ ass home after a rough night." Finas blinks. The fact that he cannot remember be carried halfway across town is slightly unnerving.

"Sorry we didn't make it to your room but the sun was coming up. I kinda had to drop you in a hurry and get the blinds." So it was morning already.

"What time is it?" Casimiro stretches out one of his long legs, tilting his chair back to get a peek at the clock in the kitchen.

"Almost two."

Finas bolts upright on the couch, regretting it instantly as his vision begins to darken around the edges. Casimiro is on his feet in a second, pushing back on the older man's shoulders.

"Sh-t, are you crazy? Lie down!" Finas doesn't argue as he's eased back onto the pillows, instead reaching up to rub at his forehead until the dizziness ebbs. That was not smart.

"I've been unconscious that long?" Cas' heavy sigh is answer enough.

"Just…stay there, alright? I'll be right back." Casimiro stiffly straightens up, his joints popping audibly as he leaves the living room. It's been at least twelve hours since his last recollection, Finas calculates. Surely Cas hasn't been camped there all this time.

_They rush him as one, but Abner fires, the stake catching Casimiro's left leg as the younger of the vampires dodges. Cas howls as his leg gives out and Finas moves to body check the hunter before he can reload. But Abner is surprisingly fast. A splash of holy water to the face sends Finas staggering back, and before he has a chance to recover, he feels an explosion of pain in his chest. The hunter has found his mark._

_As he sinks to his knees, he can hear his partner's scream of rage, unrestrained and barely human as Casimiro lunges at their attacker in spite of his still bleeding leg. _

_Finas stares blankly at the six inch projectile that is now lodged between his ribs. He wants to remove it, yet his arms remain uselessly at his sides, his strength draining along with his life blood._

Finas frowns, pushing the blankets down. He's wearing a fresh shirt, and he realizes with a mental groan that the other has probably been stained beyond all hope. He unfastens a few of the buttons, mildly curious about the condition of his chest, but of course the wound has mostly healed by now. The only sign remaining of last night's events is a bit of burnt skin surrounding what _was_ a quarter-sized entrance wound. Just to the left of his heart.

He can hear his roommate in the kitchen, the sound of footsteps and low cursing in Italian as Cas agitatedly opens and closes cabinet doors, looking for something. The background noise is oddly comforting, and Finas allows himself to curl up under the covers as he waits.

_He's lying on his back, gazing numbly up at the stars as the chill that has haunted him for centuries threatens to finally consume him. He had wanted to die on his own terms. Not like this._

_Nearby, the sounds of battle have culminated with one final vicious squelching sound as the vampire hunter's shouts are cut short. There is a thud, and the sound of footsteps approaching with unnatural speed. _

"_Finas!" A pair of wiry arms lifts him under the shoulders, and suddenly Casimiro's face is above him, contorted and tear-streaked as it slowly begins to blur out of focus. The younger man is shaking him, half sobbing, and half screaming. _

"_Don't you leave me! Don't you f-kin' leave me!"_

"Fin? Finas, come on now." Cas sounds exhausted. "Sorry man. I know you don't feel good, but I need you to wake up a minute." Had he fallen asleep again?

"Gotta take your medicine," Cas tells him, holding up a tea kettle and mug. "Sorry it took so long but I know how you hate the microwaved crap." He pours the crimson liquid into the mug and, after helping Finas into an almost sitting position, hands it over.

Ordinarily, prepackaged blood tastes dreadful regardless of how it's heated, but at the moment, it's exactly what Finas is craving. He drinks it down in seconds, exhaling as he feels it begin to restore his strength. He's able to sit up a little more.

"Thank you." Casimiro makes a dismissive motion with his hand, smiling again.

"You're not the only one who can play Florence Nightingale." He gestures to the kettle. "Another round?"

"Please."

As Cas pours another cup, Finas studies his face, a concerned frown etching into his own features. It's fairly obvious that Cas hasn't slept since yesterday, between the shadows under his eyes and the badly mussed hair. Finas can't help feeling guilty that it's because of him. Casimiro raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Are you alright?" Cas opens his mouth and promptly closes it, instead letting his lips fall into a feeble sort of smile.

"Me? Ha! I'm not the one who was bleedin' out on the concrete last night."

"Cas…" The younger vampire just shrugs the question off.

"Man, come on. It's not like we've never had to deal with this before. Lately it's like any moron can read a book and call himself a monster hunter." Speaking of which…

"What happened to VanSlyk?"

"You mean what's left of him?" Casimiro looks smug. "He's probably still staining the dirt right where I left him. Heh…I figured that'd be nice and ironic."

"Indeed." Finas sips his drink, more slowly this time. "How did you manage to remove the stake without it splintering? I can barely see sign of the wound."

"It was silver, not wood. To be honest, I just kinda yanked it out." Cas is chuckling as he holds up his right hand, the palm of it still slightly scorched. "Lucky for you, the bastard's aim was off."

"I noticed." There's a long pause, and suddenly Casimiro isn't smiling anymore.

"An inch," he says quietly. "One f—kin' inch to the right and you'd have been gone."

"That's very true." Cas stares at him.

"F-k man," he exhales. "I don't get how you can be so nonchalant about it."

"You're upset," Finas begins.

"You scared the sh-t outta me!" Casimiro explodes. "After everything we've lived through, you were almost taken out by some freak with OCD and a pet rat! Not to be melodramatic but I don't think I could have lived with that!" He takes a ragged breath, for once managing to compose himself.

"I mean, once I got the stake out, I knew you were gonna pull through but…for a minute there, I _really_ thought…" Casimiro sinks against the chair backing, shaking his head. Finas takes the opportunity to reach over and rest a hand on his forearm.

"I'm _fine_, Cas. Thanks to you, I might add." Cas snorts, but Finas ignores it.

"You're right. We had a very close call this time. But I'm still here and so are you. Let's not dwell on what _might_ have happened." Casimiro nods, letting out a weary sigh.

"I know I've probably done the same thing to you once or twice but _man_, you ever scare me like that again and I'll kill you myself."

"Duly noted." Finas says, smiling for the first time. Cas decides to check the clock again.

"It's getting late," he says. "Did you, uh…wanna head back to your room? You'd probably sleep better."

"Later, perhaps. This is actually quite comfortable."

"If you say so." Casimiro shrugs, absently rubbing the spot on his left leg where VanSlyk's first shot had struck. Finas frowns at him.

"Why don't you go get some rest, Cas? I'm feeling much better."

"Nah…I'm not tired."

There's an awkward silence. Of course it's a blatant lie, but Finas learned long ago how to translate his best friend's cryptic-ness. Cas doesn't want to be alone right now.

Finas gathers the blankets and moves to one side of the sofa, allowing Cas to drop onto the other side with no qualms whatsoever. Once they've settled in, Finas takes the remote from the coffee table, offering it to his roommate.

Casimiro shakes his head and casually leans back into the cushions, folding his arms over his chest. "Whatever you wanna watch. I'm not picky."

He flicks the remote a few times before finally settling on the History channel. Beside him, Casimiro chuckles.

"Feeling nostalgic, Fin?"

"Perhaps."

_The longer you live on borrowed time, the more you realize just how precarious immortality can be._

The minutes pass and out of the corner of his eye, Finas can see Casimiro's head sinking, eventually coming to rest on Finas' shoulder as the stubborn Italian finally loses his fight with exhaustion. Finas smiles, draping part of the blanket over his sleeping companion.

_Tomorrow may end them both, but for now? Everything is as it should be._


End file.
